


Forever

by itsminimes



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsminimes/pseuds/itsminimes
Summary: Eliot has a coffee date with Margo. Nowadays he works with Kady's group rescuing hedges in dire need and he always comes home to his secret place, his secret life.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Post season 4 finale. No connection to season 5.

Margo looked poised and beautiful, like she always did. Even in her “civilian” outfit – a one shoulder, red satin, Vera Wang dress, she didn’t need Fillorian finery to look like royalty. She was the shiniest thing in the little, elegant New York coffee shop they have chosen for their regular parley. Eliot was so grateful to have this wonderful woman always show up for him even when he had chosen to keep his distance.

“Are you really OK, Eliot?” Her deep brown soulful eyes were full of affection.

“Yes, Margo. I am coping. And – shocker! I’m still sober. After I have learned the hard way that substance abuse doesn’t solve any problems, it only creates new ones, preferably of the liver…” If he had any sense of shame left, he would have blushed thinking how she had seen him at his bad times. After spending a long period boozed up and coked up, he had only a vague recollection of how low he had sank, but he distinctively remembered Margo being there for him, helping him get himself under control with the patience of a saint. Saint Margo of the Fallen Druggies.

“I look at you and see a good change, El. Your unwashed hair days seem to be behind you. I hated those days… Old you would have hated those days even more! And you certainly pay more attention to your image, even if you tend to dress like a vampire these days. It’s still a good sign for me. ” Margo said, hopeful.

Eliot looked down into his cup of coffee. Sometimes he wondered what she was still hoping for, in what he was concerned, since he had long stopped having great expectations from himself. But Margo… He wondered, he marveled. Other people would have given up on him so long ago. But other people weren’t Margo. She was a force of nature and she never quit anything and anybody. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

“A well tailored black suit isn’t the exclusive attribute of vampires. I actually met vampires that were a disgrace to their kind. Appalling sense of fashion. Working with Kady certainly put me in contact not only with hedges but with a large diversity of magical creatures. What can I say - it has been eye-opening. And maybe a little disappointing.” Yes, he had changed. But it was merely a change of clothes. Now he was sad and pathetic only on the inside.

“Hmmm, Kady. Hedge social justice hero Kady of the jade eyes. The Force is powerful with this one. How’s work?”

“Action-packed, actually. Two days ago we dismantled a feathered serpent cult that had kidnapped two teenage hedge witches to use as sacrifices to the god. The girls were only 14! But we got to them in time. So yay me for playing the hero. Well, one of the heroes, really.”

Eliot remembered the scene so well. They went to an abandoned building that looked nondescript on the outside, but on the inside, magic had turned it into a high, open roof dark temple, illuminated by the moonlit sky and candles and torches. The cult members were standing in a big circle around an altar with a 10 feet tall feathered serpent idol. They were all hooded up, the only distinctive face being the one of the cult leader standing tall in front of the altar. He was a big, muscular guy, with a red and green Mohawk. He was topless, showing off his body-builder physique, looking even more intimidating with the silver and dark body paint. He was holding a staff with a snake head at both ends and he was murmuring an incantation that Eliot couldn’t understand, in spite of his dead languages expertise. Eliot’s eyes searched for the girls and he found them tied up on poles placed behind the altar. They seemed to be under a trance. Eliot thought for a moment that this was an unexpected small grace, hopefully diminishing the trauma of what was happening to them. Eliot’s role was to distract so Kady could go and set the girls free.

He focused his attention on what was happening. The cult followers had kneeled and bowed till their heads were on the marble floor, chanting. The face of the feathered-serpent idol started fazing and the cult leader raised his suddenly glowing staff and roared. Yes, immediate action was necessary and fallen king and befallen man Eliot had to become action man. He didn’t hesitate and made the familiar hand gesture towards Mohawk guy to put an end the show but he must have been protected by some powerful dark magic, because even Eliot’s strong telekinesis maxed up by previously done cooperative magic, couldn’t move him. Instead it got refracted and it decapitated the feathered serpent idol. It was then that the candles of the temple flickered and the fires were snuffed out. The moon cast a pale light over the scene. The only other light came from the glowing double snake headed staff. Mohawk man roared in anger and pointed the staff at Eliot. He remembered freezing, feeling no pain, unmovingly watching the cult followers engage in battle magic with Kady’s hedge group. Eliot, even if immobilized, felt relief as he watched the girls being rescued and taken away from the general chaos by Kady. Mohawk guy, still focused on him, made a path for himself through the scattered members of the cult and walked towards Eliot, building up a giant green ball of energy. Eliot just looked and looked unable to even blink, knowing he couldn’t do anything to stop him and quite honestly, not even caring about it at the moment. But unbeknownst to him and unseen by Mohawk man, Kady had returned after taking the girls to safety and she pushed Eliot away from the magical projectile. She hit the cult leader with her own battle magic and he fell to his knees, holding his stomach, blood pouring from an open wound. Kady tried to hit him again, but he looked murderously at Eliot and in a second he fazed and simply vanished. Suddenly Eliot could move again. The cult members were all detained by Kady’s people. They had won the battle.

He remembered thanking Kady for saving his life and he remembered her shrugging like it was nothing:

_“We’re friends. You would have done the same for me.”_

“I’m happy you have found something to dedicate yourself to. You needed a worthy cause to fight for. You needed to put to use your talent and your huge heart. But, Eliot, are you sure you wouldn’t be happier in Fillory, with me? We could use your help there too.”

“You know, Margo, Fillory was a home for me at a point in my life when I felt I was going nowhere. But my Fillory timeline is over. You have it all under control there. I promise I will visit you with the Penny express when I can. I do miss you a lot. And Fen and Josh. And even Frey. But here is where I belong. I feel… useful here.” He was needy to be needed, that was all. Maybe not all.

“I just don’t want you to feel alone. You have been through so much…”

“I am not alone. And I survived. I… function. I am ok-ish…”

He knew she didn’t fully believe him. And she had no reason to, he reminded himself. But he had to make her trust his capacity to make decisions again. He kissed her hand and changed the subject.

“Tell me what’s new at Whitespire. You know I love royal gossip”.

“You will never believe what Abigail did! She dumped Rafe!”

Walking home took longer than usual. Fallen leafs crunched under his steps and the fall wind swept his face free of his rebel dark curls. Like every time he met these days with Margo, half of his heart went with her when she left, but he had made his choice. He was in no hurry. The streets looked grey and the people rushed by him impassibly, following their own life lines. Eliot felt so secure in the grand indifference and anonymity of the New York crowds. He remembered the first time he arrived here – freshly escaped from Indiana farm life. The city helped him refine his identity and lent him some of its energy. Now it was a place where he could dissolve in the crowd. Where was Eliot Waugh who loved to take center-stage on every stage? Made silent by the Monster possession and all the pain that followed, probably. Party king Eliot had never been real anyway.

He stopped for a moment when he reached his apartment building. He checked out the state of the wards he put in place to make sure that this place remained a secret. His safe space. His refuge. The wards were untouched. Unbreakable. Relieved, he entered the building and took the elevator to the 6th floor of the 5 floor building. He was waiting for him by the door.

“I heard you coming. Welcome home, Eliot!” Quentin looked at him with so much warmth in his pretty brown eyes that Eliot’s heart skipped a beat, like every time he came home to this.

“Hello, sweetheart!”

He leaned for a kiss and its sweetness made his heart crack open for a moment. He wrapped his arms around Quentin in a melting embrace and tried to make the kiss last longer, wanting more, always wanting more. Quentin let himself be kissed and then he separated from him with a big smile and grabbed his hand to take him to the kitchen.

“I made dinner. Your favorite.” Eliot’s favorite food was roast duck legs with red wine sauce, but Quentin had always made him tacos as his favorite. He had never had the heart to contradict him. He was so happy with what he could get. Every new minute looking at the sweet face of the love of his life was worth enduring anything. Even unlimited tacos. Tacos were a sign of love after all. He took his jacket off, loosened up his tie and opened the first two buttons of his crisp black shirt. Eliot sat at the table and watched Quentin bring the food. He was barefoot, wearing just sweat pants and a chef’s apron. He was all smiles and Eliot couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Thank you, baby. You treat me so well. You’re spoiling me! Now let’s sit and enjoy the food that you have prepared!”

Eliot started eating the crunchy tacos under Quentin’s loving gaze.

“How was your day, Eliot?”

_Happy, because I came home to you._ He thought quickly. “I met Margo today. She’s doing well. We had some good coffee and she shared Fillory’s latest court gossip. It was a good day.”

“I’m happy you had a good day.”

Eliot’s heart clenched painfully for a second. Of course he didn’t ask more about Margo. This still hit him from time to time, reminding him of the things that were irreversibly changed there. But he still had this. This precious thing that was his and his alone. He took Quentin’s hand into his and brought it to his mouth to kiss it. His kissed each long finger, each hairy knuckle. His boy was spoiling him anyway, by waiting for him with the dinner ready and all the other 1000 daily little things that he did for him. So what if he didn’t ask more about Margo? He was there for him and that was all that mattered.

They ate the delicious tacos and made small talk. Quentin was watching a lot of Netflix lately and favored rom coms. He liked to share the stories he liked the most with Eliot. Precious. So precious. His precious boy who loved happy ending love stories. Eliot’s heart felt so full, trying to eat some more seemed pointless. He rose from the table, thanking Quentin for dinner and took his hand to guide him back to the living room.

“Come here, Q. Sit beside me.” He patted the comfortable golden couch near him.

“But, El… The dishes…”

“Leave the dishes for later, I’ll clean up.”

But Quentin pulled away and went to clear the dishes and place them in the dish washer.

Eliot sighed. “Quentin, I want to you to come here now!”

Quentin immediately turned and he dropped the last plate he was putting in the dish washer. The plate broke into pieces with a loud noise.

“I’m sorry, Eliot!” Quentin’s eyes were filling with tears. Elliot watched him step back, crushing a big shard of broken porcelain under his foot.

Eliot jumped from the couch to take him into his arms, soothing him like a child, even if he didn’t need to ask him if it hurt.

“It’s OK, love. It’s nothing. I am the one who is sorry for startling you. I will clean this up. You made us this fabulous dinner and I will do the clean up. Just let me see your foot now!”

Quentin’s still misty eyes looked at him gratefully and he lifted his right foot just a little bit. Eliot laughed, even if his heart was racing.

“Baby, I can’t see much like this. And you know I can’t lift you up.” He patted the old ice axe scar in his abdomen. “Can’t you just hop to the couch?”

Quentin nodded and proceeded to walk right to the couch. Eliot shrugged and followed him. He lifted his foot into his lap to examine it. There was no wound. Just the red impression of the porcelain shards he had crushed. His boy was undamaged. Relieved, he caressed the foot enjoying the feel of his fine skin, and then his hand went up to the touch the lightly hairy ankle, in a moment of inescapable tenderness. He was so real, warm and looking at him with blazing love in his eyes.

“You’re OK, baby. You’re OK.”

“I really am sorry, Eliot.” Quentin’s eyes were full of regret as he looked back to the kitchen area and the plate laying broken on the floor. Eliot couldn’t stand to see his boy distressed.

“Quentin, why don’t you go wash up your face and freshen up while I clean this up? OK, baby?”

“Sure, Eliot!” Quentin disappeared into the bathroom.

Eliot got up and went to pick up the plate’s shards quickly, like trying to hide any trace of what had happened. He bowed down to open the garbage disposal. That’s when he felt the presence. He tried to get up and turn but froze mid-turn. The coldest eyes were on him. Mohawk man was in the apartment.

“You’ll pay for destroying our god! Your blood will flow for the glory of the feathered serpent!”

Eliot stood frozen to the spot, unable to process what was happening. How was this possible? The wards… The protection spells…

“You got lucky last time, but now there’s nobody to help you! Where are your hedge friends now?”

Mohawk man laughed at him cruelly. Eliot was completely under his power and unable to think of a way out of the situation. He just watched with huge eyes how his captor’s sneer turned into a small strangled sound, when two strong hands wrapped around his neck crushing it. Quentin had silently returned to the room.

Quentin kept the hold even when it was clear that Mohawk man was gone. Eliot unfroze suddenly.

“Let go, Quentin. Just let go.”

Quentin removed his hands and the man fell to the ground with a loud noise.

“Are you ok, Eliot?”

“Yes, baby. You saved me.” Quentin was in the same position, arms awkwardly held down, looking unsure into Eliot’s eyes.

“You did good. You saved me, baby.” Quentin smiled showing his deep dimples.

Eliot took him into his arms and held him close, feeling the heat of his body. Relief. Warmth. Love. He kissed him and the kiss turned from grateful to passionate, deep, sweet. Like in other times, in other lives.

“I love you, Q!”

“I’m yours.”

Eliot pushed Quentin’s long flopping hair behind his ears. He gave him one more kiss and he caressed his beloved’s face: his lips, his nose, his ridiculously long lashed eyes, his eyebrows. His hand tenderly moved to the back of Quentin’s neck and he felt for the brand of the magic word he put there when he made his golem.

“Forever.”


End file.
